


in between

by silentterror



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Missing Persons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27218443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentterror/pseuds/silentterror
Summary: Yuta always loved the feeling of being in between. He preferred to feel like he was neither here, nor there. It meant he didn’t have to deal with the current day, but instead could simply exist. He could find joy in the ability to not think of the past or future. The state of in between was something Yuta truly strived for...Well, that is until Mark went missing.
Relationships: Mark Lee/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	in between

**Author's Note:**

> **Please** do not read this if you are sensitive to MCD or anything violent or suspenseful. I am purposefully leaving out tags because they will contain spoilers if I use them. If you _need_ to know, I will have a full list of potentially triggering tags in the end author note. 
> 
> With that being said, I was inspired to write this by two pictures posted by the NCTSpookfest twitter account, and I am actually submitting this for their serial killer day. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this. It quickly became a baby of mine and I love what I have planned.

Yuta had two times of day he loved. One was the summer evening, just after the sun had set and the sky still a deep cobalt, everything silhouetted against it. When the bugs started to come out and fill the air with their music. The air smelling of rain in the fear distance. The other time was a spring morning, right after the sun rose, fog laying low. A chill just barely biting into skin as the sun hasn’t had a chance to heat the air, yet. There was a softness in the atmosphere, all sounds seemingly muffled and smells filled as the wet air took over.

They were specific and rare times, semi-common during their respective seasons, but rare nonetheless. When those times rolled around, he would take advantage as much as he could, walking aimlessly around his town, relishing in the feeling of being in between.

-x-

lim·i·nal

/ˈlimənl/ adj.

  1. relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.
  2. occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.



-x-

Yuta always loved the feeling of being in between. He preferred to feel like he was neither here, nor there. It was why he loved the times that he did. He felt like he could meander through time without boundaries. It meant he didn’t have to deal with the current day, but instead could simply exist. 

Well, he loved it until Mark went missing.

Mark was the love of Yuta’s life. Not that anyone knew, of course, but that didn’t make it any less true. Yuta never told him; he didn’t want to ruin the friendship they had. Mark was his only true friend. Everyone else left when Yuta came out as bi. He expected it. They were from a moderately small town in the mid Atlantic coast of the US. People tried to say they were more open minded, but it was mostly a front. They were often secretly racist, homophobic, or a messed up combination of discriminatory beliefs.

Yuta was already an outcast for being Asian in a mostly white community, coming out as bisexual did not help his case.

Mark didn’t leave his side, though. He remained his only friend, even after Yuta’s parents kicked him out and moved across the country. Mark’s parents didn’t necessarily like Yuta, but they at least allowed him to stay the night often.

The cold nights in his car were some of the hardest times Yuta ever experienced. They lead to a greater appreciation for existing, however. There was something about seeing the stars through a fogged up windshield that left you with a sense of understanding your place in the world.

Plus, the long, uncomfortable nights were proven to be worth it when he rented his own apartment and Mark could stay whenever he wanted.

Mark‘s bed head and sleepy smile made everything worth it.

They tried to run away together, once. It was foolish, but a nice thought all the same. They made it the four hours it took to reach the state border before Mark started to sob uncontrollably. He may not have been happy with his parents most of the time, but he still loved them. Mark couldn’t face the idea of not saying goodbye to them. He also struggled with the idea of leaving behind everything he knew.

Yuta, like the good best friend that he was, pulled over, comforted Mark, and turned around. The drive back took longer because they kept stopping to look at the stars, but they did eventually make it home.

Luckily, Yuta hadn’t cancelled his lease on his apartment yet.

The fact that they couldn’t succeed in running away together was what solidified the fact that Mark didn’t run away on his own in Yuta’s mind. 

He was missing. Yuta knew it to be true like he knew the sound of Mark’s laugh. 

He knew it like he knew he loved his best friend.

It had been almost two years since Mark went missing, but Yuta never gave up. He started to hate the times he used to love, but he still walked during them, hoping Mark would show up randomly like he used to. 

He started to loath the feeling of in between.

Mark had yet to be found, dead or alive. His existence was stuck in limbo, in between. Yuta wished they would at least find a body. Then he could lay the love of his life to rest and bury his own heart with Mark.

But that hadn’t happened yet, leaving Yuta stuck in a state of perpetual loneliness and false hope.

-x-

so·liv·a·gant

/sōˈlivəgənt/ n

1: a solitary wanderer

-x-

The feeling of walking alone at 3am was one Yuta found daunting, but also tried to relish in. It was an oddly peaceful, yet terrifying time. Having 8 shots of tequila and 4 draft beers running through his blood stream, Yuta was having a hard time recognizing the danger of his actions, though. He already made his way through life with a sense of reckless abandon, but the alcohol definitely didn’t help.

It was hard to fear anything when you had no will left to live.

Yuta’s only driving force to continue living was the push to find Mark, dead or alive. He didn’t believe in an afterlife necessarily, but Mark did. If he believed in one, then the love of his life deserved better than to rest forever in eternal limbo. He should at least be given a chance to rest peacefully and Yuta was hell bent on making it happen. He would have joined Mark long ago if he wasn’t so dead set on finding Mark’s body. But somebody had to keep looking, especially when everyone else gave up.

Walking was becoming difficult as Yuta stumbled his way from the bar in the outskirts. It was his favorite bar because the only people who knew him were regulars he befriended overtime. No one looked at him out of pity because they knew what happened to Mark; they only looked with pity because he was a clearly broken man, longing for a lost love. He could go and be himself without anyone attempting to cheer him up. Everyone at a dive bar at 2 in the morning on a weekday was there to forget something or someone, so people tended to respectfully mind their own business.

The fog of the night was thin, but covered a far reaching distance. The light of the neon sign above the motel bounced off the fog, making Yuta’s vision even blurrier in his state of inebriation. He didn’t normally allow himself to drink so much, but it was the anniversary of Mark’s disappearance and no one understood him quite as well as Jose, Jack, or Jim. 

Damn, he missed Mark so much.

Yuta took a moment to gather his bearings while leaning against the wall beside a vending machine. The soft buzz of the machine and the almost indiscernible flicker of the vacancy sign lulled Yuta into a state of peace. There was still the feeling of being watched that never left him, but after two years he grew used to the feeling. On his really bad days, he liked to believe it was Mark keeping his eye on him from whatever realm he was in. 

When the feeling of being watched turned to feeling like he was being hunted, Yuta decided he took long enough of a break and needed to keep walking home. Maybe he was just too drunk or too paranoid, but it wasn’t a bad idea to get home anyways.

Prey.

He had definitely become someone or something’s prey.

Yuta kept his head on a swivel as he started to make the trek across the motel’s parking lot. His apartment was just two streets over, hidden before an old gas station that was long out of commission but used to be a truck stop. Yuta often wondered how the motel stayed in business, considering most of their clientele had been the truckers going to the truck stop.

“Yuta!” a voice screamed from behind him.

Yuta whipped around, searching the increasingly dense fog for the source of the disembodied voice. It had sounded like Mark, but Yuta had to just be too drunk and too lost in his thoughts.

“Yuta!” the voice cried again, sounding closer. Yuta still couldn’t see anyone.

There was no way Mark was calling for him, but Yuta tried his hardest to spot the shape of his best friend in the fog.

Suddenly, as Yuta was squinting and began to walk toward the direction of the cry, everything went black.

**Author's Note:**

> Potentially triggering tags:
> 
> implied suicidal thoughts, implied alcohol abuse, mentions of homophobia and racism, serial killer, multiple character deaths, implied stalking, 
> 
> will add more as time goes on.
> 
> | [twt](https://twitter.com/whinienini) |


End file.
